


Closure

by blinkfloyd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinkfloyd/pseuds/blinkfloyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His fear has completely melted away, replaced by exhilaration, a desire to feel Sam all over him, in him, everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willgrahamchops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willgrahamchops/gifts).



Dean's perpetually bruised knees ache against the cool shower basin. He's been to hell and back, but this is what will kill him.

"Are you sure?" Sam asks, shaky hands fumbling with his fly.

His own hands clench against his naked thighs. He nods. He's never wanted something as much as he wants this. Sam kicks his jeans off with none of his usual finesse, and then he's towering above Dean. They shiver together in the cold shower stall, terrified.

"Let me – move a little and uh, fix my legs–" Sam subtly changes position in what little space he has. Dean's never seen him tremble this hard.

"Don't worry," Dean says, his voice strained by pure want.

"Ok, so should I warn you or–?"

Dean nods almost frantically, his eyes clenched shut. “It's fine, go ahead and–”

He's cut off as the stream starts abruptly. Sam bites his lip and looks down as a slow flow begins falling, hitting the shower basin with a weak patter. Dean shifts forward without a second thought, immediately drenching his head and face. The warmth is shocking in the cool air. If he could open his eyes, he'd swear it was steaming. He rubs the top of his head against the tip, stopping the flow for a second before pulling away and letting it hit his shoulder and run down his back. Sam shudders at the feeling of Dean's head rubbing against his dick.

His fear has completely melted away, replaced by exhilaration, a desire to feel Sam all over him, in him, everywhere. Dean opens his mouth and lets it flow, trickling over his tongue and down his shiny, swollen lips to spatter his chest. He swallows just once, almost reflexively, and swears he can feel it run down his throat and pool white hot in his belly. His hand flies to his cock.

Sam exhales sharply, watching his brother beneath him, drenched in his piss as it continues to spray all over his head and face. 

Dean begins panting harder as the stream weakens to an end. Sam can see that Dean is touching himself, his mouth wide open and neck cocked upward. He grabs some of Dean's piss-soaked hair and twirls it in his fingers, tugging at it a little. Dean groans. He fucking loves when Sam pulls his hair. 

His breathing hitches as he comes, Sam still holding his hair and looking down at him, smiling.

Euphoria washes over Dean, sharp and perfect, makes his eyes widen. Piss drips from his hair in warm droplets.

Sam slowly crouches to his level, willing his shock-frozen body to life.

"Holy shit," he says. 

Dean nods, still staring at the floor.

Sam pats his shoulder and reaches up to turn the water on. It's still warm from the brief shower he'd taken earlier. 

He offers Dean his hand, helping him stand up slowly. Dean's knees ache. Sam maneuvers him into the water and reaches for the tiny sample bottle of shampoo sitting on the ledge. He squeezes some out of the bottle into his hand and lathers it in his hands in front of Dean – Dean doesn't seem to notice – before scrubbing it into his hair, careful to avoid getting any in his eyes.

He directs Dean's head under the water and runs his fingers through his hair to rinse before reaching for the body wash and lathering that in his hands.

Once Dean is rinsed Sam begins washing his shoulders, running his hands over his arms and grabbing onto his hands when he reaches them. Dean stirs to life at this, squeezing in return. His hands still foamy with soap, Sam gets closer and reaches around Dean to wash his back. He resolves with a firm hug as the hot water washes over both of them, pooling between their bodies before falling away.

His arms still draped around his brother, he reaches for the faucet and turns the water off. Sam steps out first and grabs a towel to hand to Dean before his own.

“Fuck,” is the first word Dean says. “Fuck, Sammy.” His hands rest on his brother's chest in reverence. He wants to say something, thank him, but no string of words in Dean's vocabulary is going to do this justice.

“Yeah,” says Sam. He squeezes Dean's wrists hard.

Dean's fingers twitch. “Sammy, fuck.”

“Yeah,” he says again. “Yeah, I know.”


End file.
